


Snow Day!

by whatagoodboy



Series: Three Against The World 'Verse [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Future Fic, Kid!Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-01
Updated: 2012-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 23:04:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatagoodboy/pseuds/whatagoodboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A huge snowstorm, the day off from work, and an overly excited three-year-old. What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Day!

**Author's Note:**

> Ella’s called Ella after my maternal great-grandmother, and her middle name, Rae, is in honour of my maternal grandfather, Ray. Sue me, I’m feeling nostalgic for my loved ones who’ve died.

Snow. Everywhere, snow. Brilliant, blinding, and not at all Kurt Hummel’s favourite thing.

“Oh, the City NEVER gets snow like Ohio” he’d been told, over and over by friends who had grown up in New York City.

“We get some, but you’ll be able to handle it—no big deal”, they offered.

(As if he’d grown up living in a city of ice and sparkling snow mountains. Honestly, some of them acted like Ohio was some far-far-away foreign land, and not part of the United States. Yes, Ohio had been more prone to blizzards and parka-clad denziens—but it hadn’t been Antarctica.)

Peering out of a frosted window from his second floor apartment, Kurt takes a deep breath, and mentally calls bullshit on his friends.

The normally bustling side-street he and Blaine live on is stone quiet. Cars reduced to softly rounded lumps covered in white along the curbing. There are no footprints marring the pristine surface of the stuff on the sidewalks either. Everything is unnervingly still.

Outside, at least. Inside the apartment? A so excited, she’s bordering on histrionic three-year-old is careening around the living room—bouncing off of couch cushions like a demented human pinball, singing at the top of her lungs.

“Da-DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, It’s SNOWWWWWWWWWW! Lots and lots and lots of SNOOOOOOOOOOOOOW! Outside, wanna go outside, can we go OUTSIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDE”

Ella sings. And sings, and her little voice is starting to go hoarse. Kurt’s brain may or may not be starting to slip out of his left ear.

“Da-DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Snow. Snow. Snow. Snow! Yay, snow!” She chants, giving up all pretense of tune, simply muttering the same thing over and over.

“El…sweetie, can you….shhhhhh? Just a little bit?” Kurt asks, his voice barely audible over the loud yelps his daughter is making.

_Yes, Kurt…try the quiet reasoning approach. Let’s see if that fails as much as it usually does. Excellent parenting choice_ , Kurt thinks darkly to himself.

He makes the decision easily. Normally, he can handle Ella like a pro when her energy levels blow off of the charts—but this seems to be ratcheting into Blaine territory.Kurt’s not sure if it is because Blaine and Ella share the same propensity to both get so overly excited-but Blaine somehow channels a deeper understanding of what she needs to be calmed down in situations like this one. 

Kurt swears it’s a special Blaine-Ella mind meld, he doesn’t understand it, but he damn sure appreciates it.

Sweeping his eyes around the room, satisfied that Ella will be okay if he leaves her for a minute—Kurt walks down a small hallway, and cracks open a bedroom door.

“Blaine?” he calls.

No response. Typical. The apartment building could have been picked up in a tornado, and placed back down in Kansas—Blaine could sleep through it. “Blaine!” Kurt actually yells, not in the mood to play  the “raise the noise levels slowly” game.

The mattress creaks, and what may have been an actual grumbled response can be heard, when Ella flies down the hallway past Kurt, and pretty much takes over the waking-up job for him.

“PAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! SNOW! C’MON WAKE UP, WAKE UP, WAKE UP!!!! OUTSIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDE” she yelps, her little body wriggling over her father’s like a puppy.

Blaine groans mightily. “Urghhhhhhhh.” Sitting up quickly, he scoops his snow-besotted child into his arms, and places a loud, smacking kiss on the top of her flyaway curls. 

Kurt leans against the doorjamb, unable to suppress a smile at the scene in the darkened bedroom. A sliver of light from the hallway beams in—lighting up his family like a spotlight. The rest of the space is shadowy, murky, but the bed? Glows like a beacon.

“Good Mornin’ sunshine” Kurt drawls.

Somehow, Blaine manages to look adorable, and Kurt wants to kiss him AND smack him in equal measure for his absence during Ella’s awakening and resulting flip out.

“Hey, you.” Blaine says to Kurt. Ruffling Ella’s hair, he adds, “And, hey YOU.” looking down at the lap full of kid he’s got.

“Papa! There is the mostest snow and you need to get out of bed and come seeeeeeee.” Ella tells him.

_Sure, Blaine gets a semi-reasonable level of sound, and I get the ones which annoy dogs for miles,_  Kurt thinks.  _Oh, baby girl._  

Blaine squints as he struggles to fully open his eyes—leveling Kurt with a sparkling, knowing glance. “She’s been up for a while, I’m guessing?”

“A short while, which has been filled with a great deal of squealing and flapping around the living room—yes” Kurt tells him. “Your daughter is very, very, excited about this “once in a century” snowfall. I do believe she may want to go outside and experience the wonder first hand.”

Ella nods emphatically. “Outside? Yeah OUTSIIIIIIIIIIIIDE.” she confirms.

Blaine laughs, “I love how she is my daughter on these sorts of mornings. Not ours,  mine.”

“Blaine? This is a special level of “these sorts of mornings”. I don’t have a coping skill for this one yet. So, yes. Right now? Yours.” Kurt says.

“Hey, Ella-belle? Did you have any breakfast yet?” Blaine asks.

Ella stills in his lap, pondering. 

“No, Papa. I didn’t eated anything.” she says.

“Well, how ‘bout you go into the kitchen and pick something you’d like? Daddy and I will come out in a minute, and help you set up.” Blaine says.

“Can I have a pop-tart? One of the gooder for me ones?” Ella wonders.

Kurt jumps in—“I got you a new box just for a special morning. They are in the low cabinet. You may have two, can you open the silvery packet yourself?" he asks.

Ella’s eyes grow round. “Two? The whole thing? Yeah, Daddy, I know how to rip carefully.” 

Stepping into the room, Kurt slides onto the bed, and kisses one of Ella’s little hands. “Okay, go for it kiddo.”

Ella fairly flies off of the bed, skidding to a stuttery stop in her stockinged feet. One hand on the wood of the door, the other gesturing wildly, she turns and asks, “And then, outside?”

Kurt and Blaine both nod, in a strange synchronized movement. “Yep”, Kurt says.

“Absolutely” Blaine replies—their voices mingling in one response.

Ella smiles so widely, that Blaine takes a mental snapshot of the view.

“Yay, outside. Yay, pop-tarts. Yay, pop-tarts….” she singsongs as she retreats down the hallway.

Trying for a graceful curl around his husband’s body, but pulling off a rather graceless slump instead, Kurt presses his nose to Blaine’s warm neck, and closes his eyes.

“Nope. It’s waking up time, Kurt. Eyes open!” Blaine exclaims.

Kurt grumbles some vague sound into Blaine’s ear. “Mmrrrrurph.”

Blaine lets out a belly laugh—a full guffaw that has Kurt bumping up and down against his side. “Sleep is for the weak….” he says.

Kurt raises his head and interjects, “Says the man who hasn’t been kid-wrangling for an hour. Or…watching the news to she if her day care centre is open or closed…OR, calling workplaces to see if our presences are required….or….”

Blaine smirks. “Poor Kurt. The world is so mean to you.”

Kurt pokes him in his side. 

_Poke_

“You suck.”

_Poke_

“I hate you.”

_Poke_

“Snow is stupid”

_Poke_

Grabbing Kurt’s offending digit, Blaine raises it to his lips, kissing the tip gently—and then sucking it into his mouth.

“You” 

_Suck_

“Don’t

_Lick_

“Hate”

_Suck_

“Me”

_Teasing lick_

“Liar”

_Suck_

“Snow is one of God’s miracles”

_Gentle bite_

Kurt groans, so very unprepared for the spark and snap of arousal Blaine has elicited.

“Fine,” he sighs. “I love you you giant brat. Snow is vaguely cool, I guess. No need to bring God into the discussion.”

Blaine grins. He’s aroused now too—but a suspicious clatter coming from the direction of the kitchen helps him quickly remember that heat and passion will need to be tabled…for the moment.

With a quick kiss, the men moan and pull away from each other-Blaine getting up on one side of the bed, Kurt on the other.

Blaine can’t help notice Kurt’s slower response time. “Hey? Let’s go get all snowy? She’ll crash for a nap early, and we can continue with shenanigans.”

“Oh, shenanigans, eh? You sexy, dirty-talker you.” Kurt replies.

“Is that a challenge?” Blaine asks.

Stepping around Blaine and starting down the hallway—praying the kitchen, and his child—are still in one piece, Kurt says, “Let’s go get snowy, and we’ll see?”


End file.
